The Walk Out

Ok so there's nothing particularly funny about this post. Just downright creepy. A couple nights ago I'm waiting on this guy. He's alone. He orders a Coke, the shrimp scampi appetizer and linguini with clams. While he's waiting for his food, he asks me if the bartender has a newspaper he can read, because he forgot to buy one. I told him he didn't but that he could read my magazine that I had stashed in the server station from when the beginning of the shift was slow.

Throughout the meal he orders another Coke and when he's finished orders a cappuccino. Then he says, "You know what? That'll keep me up all night. I'll have a coffee instead." (Two cokes and a coffee, however, will put you right to sleep, guy). Anyway, he then asks if he can leave his messenger bag at the table while he goes to smoke a cigarette. I tell him sure. I bring his coffee to the table while he's outside.

Ten minutes pass, then 20. I go to my manager, "I think this guy bailed, but his stuff is still on the table." After a half hour goes by, my manager opens the messenger bag. No wallet, no phone, nothing valuable. The only things in the bag were hair gel, Mike and Ikes, a scarf, and, wait for it...Astro Glide.

Blech.